


Dear Sidewalk

by hotspaceletsgo



Category: Muse (Band)
Genre: Age Difference, Alternate Universe, Kissing, M/M, not a huge one
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-08
Updated: 2021-01-08
Packaged: 2021-03-12 08:21:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,775
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28632408
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hotspaceletsgo/pseuds/hotspaceletsgo
Summary: Matthew is a young mail carrier and every day he wages the same route. He has his life perfectly lined, he likes predictability and he never strays from his work. That is until a new resident appears on his track.Inspired by the filmDear Sidewalk.
Relationships: Chris Wolstenholme/Caris Wolstenholme, Matt Bellamy/Dom Howard
Comments: 4
Kudos: 3





	Dear Sidewalk

**Author's Note:**

> I adore the film Dear Sidewalk and I thought that I could perhaps write a Belldom story based on its plot. 
> 
> I did a terrible job, it's unnecessary long and hella boring. Also, I didn't proofread it, if you find mistakes, that's purely on my side and I'd really appreciate if you could point it out (can you tell I'm tired?).
> 
> Still think it's a good way to finish my writing career for the Muse fandom (unless I decide to pair up Dom with Brian May from Queen). Peace! Hope you can enjoy at least a few lines!

_The average U.S. Mail carrier walks ten to twelve miles a day. Over the course of said postman's distinguished career, they will walk around the world five times. So far, a certain postman has made it almost once. Which is ironic because he has never left his hometown. On average, he delivers 1,833 pieces of mail to roughly 300 households every day. Like the motto of the postmen says, "rain or shine, snow or sleet, we will deliver your mail".  
_

Just like every morning, Matthew woke up when his wall clock showed exactly 6:23. He dressed up in a light blue button-up, khaki shorts, put on his sun helmet hat, hiding the blue curls on his head, and with a small smile tugging on his lips he started his everyday walk towards the post office.

His morning route lead around a small bakery and from time to time, the petite blonde who owned the establishment and whose name Matthew never dared to ask for would give him a freshly made apple crumble. When those days occurred, he'd stop to eat for precisely forty seconds, thank her for the dessert and leave her to do her own work. Those days were rare, but he secretly cherished them for his likeness of sweet food.

As he arrived at the break room of the post office, his other co-workers were already lounging there, positioned strangely around a table. First, he didn't understand, but once he looked closely at the small pile of fivers and coins, and then at his wristwatch, it dawned on him.

"Are you betting on me again?" There wasn't any bitterness behind his words, he was just a bit confused as to why would anyone give their money on a bet concerning him being late or not. It was pointless anyway.

Matthew was _never_ late. And that wasn't an exaggeration.

Through every sweet delight from the baker, through every car that had tried to - unintentionally - run him over on the sidewalk, he was scarily punctual with his job. That's what he was cherished for amongst the citizens of the small town of Exeter Hills.

An older, bald man scrambled his winnings, stood up and pushed a one dollar note into his palm. "We gotta entertain ourselves somehow before the deed starts."

"It's a job, Glen. Whatever you decide to call it, you chose it nevertheless," Matthew said as he pocketed the paper.

The youngster sat down instead of his co-worker and tried to catch up on the conversation. He was frowning at the words that were being thrown around freely, such as “boned” or “shag” among worse. And they weren’t stopping the flood of obscure phrases, even though they knew Matthew was more than half the age of them all, and mainly, they were in _public_. Well, almost, but it still made Matthew’s face scrunch in disgust.   
  
“Why the long face, Matt?” Morgan asked. He was a fifty-year old Englishman who was always keeping his eyes on the black-haired boy. They weren’t any close; they didn’t have that typical father-son relationship, but he felt the most responsible for Matthew. “You’ve been coming in with lowered eyebrows almost this whole week. Anything important happened?”  
  
Matt brought a hand to his hair and swiftly pulled at some loose strands which he tucked behind his ears. “I had a nightmare. There was no mail coming in for a whole month and we had to sit and play cards right here.”  
  
Glen let out a short wheeze. “That’s hardly a cause for the frown. I’d be pretty delighted to be paid for fucking around and gambling!”  
  
“Don’t take it lightly. When was the last time you got a true postcard?” Matthew’s third and last co-worker in the room, Tanya, warned. Her short, raven hair styled to a mohawk was especially pointy that day, but Matthew didn’t dare to comment on that. He liked the style on her, but when he tried to do it with his electric blue hair, it was just a mess, so he stopped bothering. He had a more stylish hat that suited him anyway.  
  
“Three days ago.” Matthew was surprised to hear his own voice answer the woman’s question. All eyes were on him now and nervousness started to seep through his ocean irises. They were all expecting him to expand on his words. Should he just say it flat out? Make up a lie? Don’t answer at all and finally start his route?  
  
He looked at his old trainers that desperately needed an exchange for new ones, took a deep breath and made eye contact with his co-workers. “I turn twenty-five next week. Those were some congratulation cards.”  
  
Around the room sounded a chorus of “hey”s as they started patting his shoulder with their own additions of “congratulations”.  
  
Matthew couldn’t believe it. He’s going to be twenty-five soon. Quarter of a century. He certainly didn’t have a problem with where he was right now – he had a steady job, he had a place to live - even though that place was an old boat – and he could hang out with friends from time to time. What more could he wish for?  
  
“You know, when I was twenty-five, I went through a pretty heavy quarterlife crisis,” Morgan said playfully, but Matthew could see some regret behind the faded blue eyes of his. “When you’re eighteen, you’re in your last year of sixth form, you’re drinking watermelon-flavoured vodka from your best friend’s stomach and you’re enjoying what you have.”  
  
“Not in the States, no,” Tanya murmured.  
  
“You turn twenty and, well, then you start thinking: thirty’s not that far now. Two year’s nothing when you’re living the high life, but then you wake up one day, you’re pushing the three-zero and you realise that you’re well on the way wherever the hell you’re going. Twenty-five’s not that far from that.”  
  
Everyone was silent for a few seconds.  
  
Glen banged his fist against the table, breaking the uncomfortable tension that had arose amongst them. “Come on, Morgs, don’t get all existential on the kid. Matt, you’re still young, you have a whole life before you, don’t waste it. Go exploring, find a new hobby, hell, get a girl for fuck’s sake! I haven’t noticed you getting laid probably ever since you got here and-”  
  
“Hey, can we maybe defrost a little bit before we start talking about my sex life and all?” Matt interjected, his eyes widening slightly at the mention of a something resembling his love interests.  
  
Maybe him turning twenty-five was a great opportunity to out himself as not as straight as they all might see him. Maybe.  
  
Not at all.  
  
“It’s a valid topic, Matt. You gotta get yourself out there. Get laid on your birthday, it’s what birthday parties were invented for! Have you ever done it with a girl using cake topping as a lube?”  
  
Matthew’s face mimicked shock and he decided that it was time to start his job. “Okay, I think that’s enough. Fun chat, guys, but I’m two minutes late and I need to get to delivering. It’s only fair of me to say that you’re all disgusting, but I need to point out that you’re important. Eh… for this job, I mean. Yeah. See you later.”  
  
His pale, skinny arm grabbed for his bag that was filled with letters – unlike his nightmare predicted – and he was on his way through his daily routine.  
  
•～

 _What’s not surprising about the career of a mailman is the small amount of people who know their postman’s name. The more surprising fact is the amount of information they know about the people their route contains. With every client’s mail there is a small clue as to what the personality of that person is. It’s like a puzzle; piece by piece you connect the profile of someone, until you don’t have anything to go off of and it’s like you’ve known that person for years without having spoken a word to them._  
  
That’s what Matthew liked about this job. Once he had learnt the names and adresses, he could start solving his own jigsaws, and when that was done, the work became consistent yet again. With minor changes, obviously.  
  
Like learning that mister Taylor was behind on his subscription for a fancy cars magazine. Or that miss Ball wanted to adopt a cat from an animal shelter. Which is quite odd for a girl that had her house filled with purebred dogs.  
  
But who was Matthew to judge? He was a mailman. If there was a stamp on it, he delivered it to its rightful receiver.  
  
His route never changed. He knew exactly what to expect.  
  
Unless you counted in a new resident on his route.  
  
Matthew always made a short stop at his friend’s house on his way. Tom was a professional photographer, fresh out of college. The blue-haired boy had known him since he was a freshman and inherited the house from his grandparents. He was quite an interesting character, one Matthew didn’t have to glue together thanks to the letters, but because Tom was such an outgoing and kind individual that he didn’t take Matthew’s initial reservation into question and just started talking to him, until the boy had given up the act and became friends with the odd now ex-student.  
  
“Hey, Matt. What are you doing here at this time of the day?” Tom greeted him, sarcasm dripping from his voice. He crossed the front yard, taking Matthew’s bag and put it down on a bench he had on his porch.  
  
Tom brought the mailman a cool drink, since it was well into summer, turned on the radio and the two of them relaxed as the tune of _Mrs. Robinson_ by Simon and Garfunkel passed through the nature around them.  
  
The raven-haired boy pushed down his sunglasses he had found on the bench and decided to break the reverie. “Have you seen the newbie that moved to old Anderson house?”  
  
Without missing a beat, Matthew answered. “I haven’t made it that far yet. I tend to avoid human interaction beside you, Tom.”  
  
“You should come out of the shell soon, then, because what you’re about to see is gonna tear you down like a boxer.”  
  
“Why this choice of words?”  
  
Tom looked around as if anyone could hear them, when in fact everybody was either preoccupied with sitting down in front of their televisions or they couldn’t care less about the conversation a boring mailman and a strange photographer were having. When he was satisfied with the dramatic effect it had, he leaned in closer to Matthew. “It’s a he instead of that old hag. And _he_ is fucking hot.”  
  
Tom knew Matthew was gay, but he alone was flamboyant like that and wasn’t afraid to admit when he saw a handsome guy that he was, well, attractive. Sometimes the blue-haired boy wondered how _flexible_ Tom was with his orientation. He always came to the conclusion that it didn’t matter and that as long as Tom was happy, it wasn’t his place to talk.  
  
“I prefer to judge my clients based on their mail and not on their looks since I don’t ogle over them. That’s a photographer’s job,” Matthew teased. “But thanks for the heads-up. I’ll make sure to be extra careful with putting the mail in his mailbox.”  
  
“Is that how you kids call it these days?”  
  
They snickered at the obvious innuendo Tom initiated. Matthew looked at the watches on his left wrist and stood up to grab at his carrier bag.  
  
“Gotta go. I have some more papers to bother people with. Thanks for the water.”  
  
“Come at me, you nerd,” Tom smiled, extending his arms towards the smaller boy. They hugged and Matt left Tom behind laying down on the bench, catching some of the sunlight.  
  
Matthew passed a few more houses, before his route lead him towards the house old woman Anderson used to reside. He strode towards the yellow door, slipping a note into the mailbox, and turned away to continue on his way, but there was a deep, mellow voice that was sprinkled with British accent stopping him.  
  
“Sorry, what’s this?”  
  
Matthew turned around with discomfort in his eyes, as he didn’t know what the voice was referring to. Maybe he dropped the slip into the wrong mailbox?  
  
Once he laid his eyes at the source of the question, he knew he should’ve listened to Tom’s warning. He made fun of the photographer’s precautious words, but now…  
  
Holy shit, he was hot.  
  
In front of him stood a slightly taller blond in his late thirties in black sweatpants and white tank top, the top showing off his amazingly toned arms. As Matthew focused his stare on the face of this abnormally attractive human, he noticed the light beard that accentuated his plush lips. He also noticed the puzzled look in the grey eyes this man possessed.  
  
“That’s, uh… that’s a package. For-for you.” Matthew mentally slapped himself for getting distracted, collecting his thoughts. “You come to the post office with the slip and the package should be there for you.”  
  
“Well, could you get it here?” the man smiled.

  
Matthew started reciting the speech he had learnt whenever this question occurred. “Uh, section four point seven – the residential manual stipulates packages of that size cannot be delivered without the recipient’s signature.”  
  
The handsome stranger stopped in his tracks and looked at the paper once again. “Must be the rest of my things…” he mumbled, then he looked at Matthew. “Could you sign it for me then? Cheers.”  
  
Before the mailman could protest, the yellow door closed with a bang and he was left to wonder what he was going to do with the situation he found himself in.  
  
•～  
  
When Matthew was done with his work, he could finally go home and hide away from the intensive sunshine. It was a bit over three o’clock and the warmth could melt the asphalt on the roads. Matthew loved his job, but sometimes the nature could be quite cruel to him.  
  
He narrowly missed the boat that was in the driveway, unlocked the door and let himself in. “Chris, I’m home!” he called.  
  
The taller boy danced around the kitchen preparing himself a meal, but when he heard Matthew was back from work, he put some extra bacon on the pan for him as well.  
  
“I’m going on a date!” he announced to the blue-haired boy.  
  
“A date? You, Chris?”  
  
“Yes, a proper date!” He opened a cupboard to pull out another plate and put it in front of Matthew with the added bacon. “Eat up, you must be starving after such a long, hot day.”  
  
Matthew didn’t notice how hungry he was, until he caught a whiff of the food. He started wolfing it down. “Thanks. So, a date?”  
  
“Yeah! I was in a store. She needed something from the top shelf and since I’m the tall one, she asked me for help. She thanked me, complimented my curly hair, I complimented her overalls and now we’re going on a date! Isn’t it cool?” Chris was visibly beaming. He reminded Matt of an overexcited puppy he just brought home.  
  
“Very cool. You finally found someone who fits your criteria of not being an asshole,” Matthew teased. After he was done with his food, he stood up, collected his and Chris’ dishes and started washing them, while Chris talked about his newfound love interest.  
  
“Her name’s Caris and she’s really kind. Maybe a bit shy. Not your ‘I’m keeping my distance because I’m not interested in you’ kind of shy, but the adorable kind of shy. Oh! And I told her to bring her hot friend along, so you could go out with me too.”  
  
This stopped Matt dead in the tracks. “Chris, I don’t want to go out with anyone at the moment.”  
  
“Yes, you want and you _will_. That wasn’t a question. Don’t plan anything for tonight, we’re going out.”  
  
“Well, what if I have something planned?”  
  
“Like?”  
  
“I don’t know, moving to another state, so I don’t have to go on a date you winged me.”  
  
Chris sighed and grasped Matthew’s skinny shoulders. “Matt, don’t throw this chance away. This could be our ticket. This could be our last chance to finally start something new. Something… nice. For the both of us.”  
  
The mailman tried to avoid eye contact with his best friend, but the hazel orbs were irresistible. He didn’t know what to do; in no way he wanted to ruin Chris’ date, but he also didn’t feel like going out at all. After that day’s debate with his co-workers, absolutely not.  
  
He was awfully quiet for a few beats. “Chris, I don’t think I want to.”  
  
“You can always try it, Matt. And if he’s not for you, you could always use a new friend.”  
  
The taller boy had always been there for him. He knew what was good for Matthew and he helped him get comfortable in social situations. He trusted him.  
  
Matthew looked down, grinned and nodded.  
  
Chris smiled back, patting his shoulders. “Let’s go to the garden.”  
  
The sun was starting to die down, weakening the sunlight, thank god, and slight breeze could be felt around the two boys. Chris picked up a soccer ball and kicked it towards the smaller boy. “So, how’s our boy Matt excited for the birthday next week?”  
Matthew sent it back with a less than enthusiastic kick, rolling his eyes. “Quarter of my life with pretty much nothing to show? Not in the slightest, gotta be honest.” He eyed the ball as Chris lifted it with his foot and kicked it in the air a few times.  
  
“Oh, come on. You have a nice career. Plus, you’ve great taste in what friends you choose.”  
  
“Way to compliment yourself, Chris. No, really. I feel like I’ve lived a thousand years without actually living it. Just sitting in my boat, collecting stamps and paying my taxes with part of it going to social security. Even now when I’m talking to you, I sound like a dad.”  
  
“Dad or daddy? You never know what guy wants his own teddy bear at home.”  
  
“Yeah, but I look neither like a bear, or a dad, or a daddy for that matter.” He kicked the soil under his feet and sat cross-legged on the warm grass, his chin in his hands. A frustrated grunt left his lips. “Jesus, I’m so pathetic aren’t I, Chris?”  
  
The taller boy kept kicking the ball but met Matthew’s gaze. “Yes, and therefore we gotta get you out there.”  
  
“Not today, Chris. I have a meeting.”  
  
“Philatelists again?”  
  
“It helps me calm down!”  
  
“I’m changing your title from dad to grandad.” Chris stopped in his fun and crouched down to be on the same level as Matt, somehow seeming way more intimidating. ”An hour and a half, then you’re coming to the downtown pub.”  
  
“But Chris, today is imp-“ the blue-haired boy cried out, but Chris was having none of the talk for the day.  
  
“Hour. And. A. Half. Now go before I drag you out right now.”  
  
•～  
  
Matt was dressed in a blue polo shirt, a bit darker than his work attire, and faded black jeans. The wind picked up slightly more on the intensity and chilliness, and as he and his fellow stamp enthusiasts were sitting in a shade, it was only convenient for him to be somewhat overdressed.  
  
He was offered another beer which he kindly turned down, looking thoroughly at a collection of stamps his co-worker Morgan brought.  
  
“I’m not sure where you found this, but they’re beautiful. All in mint condition. Printed around the sixties, maybe early seventies. No signs of usage, and it’s like they were never even touched. About five or six gran for the whole collection.”  
  
The blond smiled proudly. “I inherited it from my brother. Said he didn’t want it anymore and that I could surely find a purpose for this.” He scratched his clean shaved chin in thought. “Maybe I could trade it with you for _The Duke_?”  
  
“Ask me again next week when I’m wasted and high on the twenty-fifth year of my life, yeah?”  
  
Morgan closed the book with stamps and sneered. “Fine, but don’t tell me off when I actually do it.”  
  
The five other people exchanged some more prints and seals, but Matthew had only one thing on his mind. He looked at his trusting wristwatch again for the fifth time in the last twenty minutes, his face showing visible distraction.  
  
Morgan noticed.  
  
“Do you have to be somewhere, Matt?”  
  
Matt hesitated. It wasn’t the man’s place to pry and it had nothing to do with him, and yet Matt trusted his co-worker that he’d give him an advice.  
  
“I’m, uh… I’m supposed to be meeting my friend on a date. Not with me, but he found someone and that someone is bringing her friend for a date. With me, that is. Well, I’m not supposed to meet him, I actually- Morgan, help me out here, please.” The desperation was evident in the boy’s voice.  
  
But Morgan only laughed. “Do what you feel like doing, boy. You should go meet your friend, but if you wanna stay here with old weirdos and talk about stamps all day, you’re free to do so. I think it would be a wasted opportunity, though.”  
  
“You think possible rejection and having a drink spilt on your shirt is more worth than stamps?”  
  
“Listen, Matt. If you don’t try it, you’ll never know the outcome. We’ll be here next week like always. Your date might leave, and you’ll never see that person again. It’s not about worth itself, it’s what’s more worth _trying_.”  
  
Morgan’s words seeped right through Matt’s skin into his brain, working those circuits he had inside to form a final answer. What did he really want? There was more than one solution to his situation, and as much as he wanted to catch up to both things he had on plan today, he knew he had to choose.  
  
And Morgan was absolutely right.  
  
He collected his own stamp book, stuffed it in the old bag he always carried, and with a wink in Morgan’s direction said his goodbyes to the others.  
  
•～  
  
The next day was a bit of a blur in the morning. He woke up five minutes later than usual which threw him out of the rhythm, but once he remembered the fiasco that was the evening in the pub, he wanted to forget it as soon as possible.  
  
Matthew remembered coming to the pub and seeing Chris who was sat down in a booth with a girl and a boy. The girl was pretty alright, he even made small talk with her, but the boy – his supposed _date_ \- was just disastrous. He was full of himself, talked only about his accomplishments, and as much as Matthew wanted to listen to this stuck-up ginger talk about his pretty lengthy acting career, he was incredibly annoyed. And Chris didn’t help him either. Once he started talking about his own work and his hobby of collecting stamps, Chris accidentally spilt his cocktail on Matthew’s pants.  
  
If it had been an accident, he wasn’t so sure, but all in all, Chris’ mere mishap was the last straw.  
  
He quickly decided that enough was enough and that he’d rather be on his boat of a home than having to listen to this mess.  
  
Good thing about the next day was that he could see the mysterious blond that had moved to Tom’s neighbourhood. As nervous as he was while picking up the package, doing something that crossed the line of his job, it changed up his day a little bit and that was good. The same route, but with an addition.  
  
Alas, the boy didn’t count in that the packages were _heavy_. At least for Matthew’s small build. There were two boxes, one flatter, one bigger, and he was glad he delivered others’ mail before finally ending up at the familiar yellow door.  
  
Quickly, he placed both boxes on the front porch before he knocked on the door and made a dash for the picket fence to leave, but the honey-like voice made him pause.  
  
“Could you give me a hand with this?”  
  
Through his mind swirled a million thoughts, such as ” _you’re older and stronger than me_ ” and “ _I still have to finish my route_ ”, but instead of protesting, he turned to the man with an awkward smile.  
  
“Sure…” He put extra emphasis on the ‘ _u’_ in the word to signalise his uneasiness with the deed.  
  
The man had already lifted the bigger box, leaving the smaller one for Matthew, and held the door open with his leg. “Thanks, I like carrying things in one go, so there’s less work.”  
  
Matthew nodded, as if it was the most important piece of information he learnt that day, but as his mind focused on the veins that were straining against the tanned skin of the man’s arms, he dropped the box on the wooden floor.  
  
“Oh-oh my god, I’m so sorry, I… it was an accident, I swear!”  
  
The blond pursed his lips together, but eventually exhaled loudly and flashed the mailman an amused smile. “Well, now you definitely have to help me get it together.”  
  
“I-I’m really sorry, but I don’t really have time-“  
  
As if on cue, a sound of something falling off on the cardboard inside the box made Matthew cut his sentence short, the blond jerking his head towards the hall of his house to indicate that now it was his _job_ to carry the boxes inside, since he might’ve broken a valuable item.  
  
The room the blond lead him into looked like a studio of some sorts. There were pictures twice as big as Matthew, paintings of objects that the mailman couldn’t identify, and a lot of simple statues. The big drum set in the back of the room caught his attention the most.  
  
“Do you play?” the man was curious, but Matthew could only shake his head.  
  
He put the box on a table in the middle of the room, presumably for art supplies. “Well, if that’s everything, mister Howard.”  
  
“How do you-“ the blond started, but it immediately hit him when he saw the sticker with his name on the package. “Oh, right, sorry. I didn’t notice.”  
  
The box contained another smaller statue that belonged in the room, but the tip of the figure, which looked like a cactus to Matthew, was ruptured and the man had to search through various objects to find the broken piece. “Here, hold it right on the tip.”  
  
“I really shouldn’t-“  
  
“Come on, you’ll learn something about architecture.”  
  
The blue-haired boy sighed – he noticed that he was doing it way more often in the presence of the blond -, but obeyed, keeping the peak of the artwork in its place, while this Howard character kept adding glue, until it was steady.  
  
“So, you’re a lawyer?” the blond joked.  
  
The question visibly confused and bothered Matthew as he was asked that. “The mailman thing is going quite well for me, thank you very much.”  
  
“And what’s next on your list?”  
  
“What do you mean, _’next’_?”  
  
“You have to have some other goals and dreams other than this predictability and that you’re going to be financially stable in your retirement. I want to know them.”  
  
“You’re an artist?”  
  
The older man laughed at the boy’s effort to change topics. “Used to be. I used to be an artist, I used to be a musician, I used to be a driver… I wanted to try different things, so I did everything I could to make use of my younger years.” He checked if the statue was positioned in the right way, and when he was sure, he turned to Matthew, his grey eyes boring holes into Matthew’s.  
  
“Now hold it like that for a few more hours and it should be fine.”  
  
“Wait, hours?!”  
  
When he saw the grin spreading across the man’s face, he rolled his eyes in annoyance.  
  
“You’re just way too easy to rile up. I’ll do it then.”  
  
Their fingers touched as they swapped places. Matthew was certainly not used to human contact at all, and he almost jumped at the unknown sensation that was mister Howard’s hot touch.  
  
His mind travelled back to reality and he took a step back, watching intently how the blond’s hands tended to the figure.  
  
Maybe it was the human contact he never really searched for, but he felt the need to say something. “Thank you, mister Howard.”  
  
“For what?” the older man asked.  
  
“This was… different. I usually gravitate towards avoiding civilians, but this interaction gave me a new perspective.”  
  
With that he left the blond’s house, feeling somehow relieved at saying those last words. As he looked at the watches that never failed him, he decided that the second half of his route he’ll do in a hurry. He wasn’t that athletically skilled, but the evenings he played soccer with Chris could be useful for once.  
  
•～  
  
Matthew delivered another mail - it was just close to three o’clock, when he would normally arrive home, but he was behind because of the situation with mister Howard. Thankfully, he only had one street left before he could finish his job with a small delay, to his relief.  
  
As he turned to the driveway, a particularly familiar voice that totally didn’t belong to the States startled him – for the third time since their meeting.  
  
“Hey you!” Laughter gracing his voice, the well-known blond ran towards Matthew without any reply from the mailman. He was dressed in joggers and baggy T-shirt, retro sunglasses complimenting his look.  
  
“Mister Howard?”  
  
The blond extended his arm to greet the youngster. “Don’t bother me with those pleasantries; it’s Dom.”  
  
When the boy didn’t react to the greeting, Dom pulled back. That didn’t stop his smile from expanding. “I was just having a jog without realising that I don’t know the surroundings. Maybe I could walk with you? You could show me your route!”  
  
A frown worked its way up Matthew’s face. “I’m not really sure if that’s the best idea. Besides, I kinda have a certain way of doing things. Think it’s way too uninteresting for the active kind like you are.”  
  
The boy turned on his heel and once again hanging his head low, keeping his eyes on the path.  
  
It was evident that the blond, Dom, didn’t take it personally, as Matthew heard tapping of running shoes behind him shortly after their exchange.  
  
That was definitely something new as well.  
  
“It’s a nice day, don’t you think? Do you have days like that often here?”  
  
“Not at all.”  
  
A wave of peace surrounded them.  
  
“What did you say was your name again?”  
  
“I didn’t.” The mailman took a sharp turn to the last neighbourhood of the day and slipped one of the last letters of the day into a battered mailbox. “It’s Matthew.”  
  
The blue-haired boy continued his journey without paying much attention to the man next to him, who was constantly asking him irrelevant questions, probably to distract him from looking down all the time.  
  
“Why do always look down at the pavement?”  
  
“Sidewalk. And… I don’t really think about anything else than the sidewalk. It’s like a kaleidoscope. You… you look at each block differently, twist it and turn it with each of your steps. It can be anything you want.”  
  
“Like what?” Dom inquired.  
  
Matthew zipped up the bag and turned his back to the man. “This is when I finish my job and go to eat my late lunch.”  
  
He wasn’t trying to be rude to Dom, in no way. He was used to a certain schedule and since the early afternoon at his house his whole timetable was ruined and moved and messy. He just wasn’t prepared to ever start doing things late, even if it meant fifteen minutes of his usual routine.  
  
Sitting down on a secluded bench that had a view over the whole town, he didn’t expect the blond to join him for his cold behaviour towards him. Yet, there they were sitting next to each other, Matthew eating a sandwich with peanut butter and Dom watching the beauty in front of them.  
  
“Where did you move from, mister Howard?” Matthew asked out of the blue.  
  
“Told you, you can call me Dom,” the blond reminded him. “Well, England, as you can hear. More specifically Devon. Do you know where that is?”  
  
“I’m sorry, my knowledge of the British Isles is less than admirable. South from London?”  
  
“You’re not far off, surprisingly. Americans tend to have a different point of view when it comes to other countries than America itself.”  
  
“It’s practical. I don’t think I’ll ever leave U. S., so it’s better to know your hometown and the surrounding states rather than the outer world.”  
  
Dom narrowed his eyebrows, studying Matthew’s features. “You have very interesting opinions, Matt.”  
  
“Why did you move then if you see Americans like that?”  
  
The man chuckled at the boy’s sudden boldness. “I went through a divorce.”  
  
“Oh, I’m sorry. How long ago?”  
  
“I’d really rather not talk about it.”  
  
Matthew understood. He didn’t want to invade anyone’s privacy. Besides, going through a divorce sounds like a painful thing, especially if you’ve been living with your loved one for a longer period of time and out of nowhere your partner decides that-  
  
“Three years ago. It was an… the reason was actually a tad awkward.”  
  
Matthew, in a haze, nodded along, taking another bite of his sandwich, startled at Dom’s forwardness. And then, the silence. It was deafening. What was he to do now?  
  
“Aren’t you going to ask why I got a divorce?”  
  
If he wasn’t confused enough before, now he was definitely out of the loop. “I thought you said you didn’t want to-“  
  
“Well, now that I started it would be impolite not to finish the thought, wouldn’t it?” Dom interjected.  
  
“I-I guess?”  
  
“I realised I was gay.”  
  
Matthew expected everything; from cheating to death. Not… that.  
  
“My ex-wife and I were together for ten years. Nine of those were spent in peaceful marriage, everything was just exactly how you see it in rom coms. The last year was… painful, at least for me. I’m sure she was contented and still loves me, but I couldn’t go on with the lie, you know.” The blond took off his glasses and turned to Matthew. “Everything aside, I’m alone now, but I’m happy. I’m living the high life and I can date without any restrictions.”  
  
The mailman bit on his sandwich and gulped, this time being louder than normally, momentarily looking at the man next to him.  
  
“Sorry, I’m probably way too sour for your young ears. What about you? Where do you live?”  
  
“I live with my-“ A necessary stop, contemplation before proceeding further. Dom wouldn’t understand, not yet. “brother Chris. My parents are a few hours away.”  
  
“Where? Are they in another town?”  
  
They were staring into each other’s eyes, Matthew admiring the depth of the blond’s grey irises, Dom studying Matthew’s ocean blues. There was a comfortable pause and maybe, just maybe something could happen.  
  
But that was unlikely given Matthew’s constrained and wary character.  
  
The boy stood up. “I’m sorry, but I’m late. Do you know how to get home?”  
  
Dom took longer to answer, perhaps trying to decipher the tension that abruptly fell upon them. “I think so, yes…”  
  
“Great. See you tomorrow, mis- Dom.”  
  
Matthew tipped his hat, gave him a routine smile and walked away, his head filled with a million thoughts and empty at the same time.  
  
•～  
  
Another dawn, another day filled with delivering letters to their owners. Matthew counted the number of mail that was quickly decreasing, making up for the minutes he was late yesterday. Normally, he was in Tom’s neighbourhood at 12:35, now he was thirty minutes ahead of his schedule.  
  
Just in case something concerning Dom would arise in the process.  
  
He opened the gate to the yellow-coloured door, but before he could reach into his bag and pull out the postcard Dom had got, a strong hand from behind him took a hold of the belt and whisked the bag away, running to the backyard of the house. Matt already knew the culprit.  
  
“Dom, you can’t do that! Tampering with the mail is highly illegal!” he yelled after the blonde and when the mentioned thief didn’t stop, the boy followed in his tracks.  
  
Their chase didn’t end in Dom’s garden like Matthew had predicted, but Dom ran further, beyond the fence and in the direction of a nearby park. Matt had never been there before, so amongst all the feelings of distress and unease lingered excitement.  
  
Dom started slowing down until he stood before a gate made out of grass wall and road signs variously placed on the foliage. As the boy caught up with the blond, catching his breath, he dared to look around at where they were standing.  
  
The place looked like a spot where people went to dump old things they didn’t need, but once Matthew inspected closer what was beyond the impromptu gate, he felt somehow… magical.  
  
Dom pushed him forward, making the mailman tumble and he fell over on a colourful armchair, the rests were missing and instead of them were two metallic wings, probably from a defunct training airplane or slider. It took Matthew a second to realise where he was, but once he was aware of his surroundings, he beamed up and started taking it all in.   
  
He was wrong, so wrong when he thought Dom took him to a junkyard. This reminded him of an _art museum_. Everywhere his eyes landed there was something – a tire that was filled with beautiful flowers, a pool table without its legs that was made into a makeshift couch, a statue made of old sunglasses… Dom reached for a pair, the same kind that Dom always wore, and put them on the boy’s nose.  
  
“Well, now you just look like a younger, prettier version of me,” he noted, leading Matthew towards a mirror that was decorated with flowers, ropes and glitters.  
  
“How did you find this place?” Matthew wondered while he admired his reflection.  
  
Dom looked at him in the mirror and winked. “I was on a morning run, discovering the town’s secret passages, when I came across this abandoned park. I jogged further and the next thing I see is this big stop sign without a street to be placed on. It’s where I got inspiration for my next piece.”  
  
They stood in place, just absorbing the atmosphere, when Matthew gasped. “My watch!”  
  
Dom looked under them if it maybe didn’t fall off, but the chance was highly unlikely. “I probably knocked it off when I took your bag, sorry.”  
  
The boy wasn’t happy at all. It was as if he lost someone close to him – he couldn’t take a step without his trustworthy wristwatch, he just _needed_ to check the time. He was a mailman for god’s sake!  
  
“Relax, Matt, we’ll find it. Besides, it’s just a watch!”  
  
Matthew wanted to be angry. He wanted Dom to acknowledge that he was responsible for something he lost, but he found he couldn’t be mad with the blond. For some bizarre reason he was glad that they were in a place that resembled a modern art museum and that they were just hanging out. Dom seemed to be a bit irresponsible for an adult with that much experience, but also like a great friend that will do anything to get you out.  
  
He really, _really_ liked the blond.  
  
The blue-haired boy was torn away from his reverie when two fingers snapped in front of his eyes. “Matt?”  
  
“Sorry, I lost my train of thought.”  
  
“When am I going to see where you live?”  
  
“What?” Matthew couldn’t believe what he was hearing.  
  
“You already saw my house. It’s only fair for you to show me the mansion you, as a postman, live in,” Dom grinned.  
  
Matt took off the glasses, returning it back on the statue. “I gotta go, I still have a few streets that need their mail. But I’ll be done at around…” He wanted to check the time, but when he found a blank spot on his bony wrist, he let out a flat chuckle. “You can join me on my way back at around two thirty. I’ll make sure to stop for two minutes in front of your house to wait for you if you really want to see where I live.”  
  
With that, he spun around, stealing his bag with mail back and made a beeline for the way back on the main road. Dom could only stare at the blue-haired boy and the trail of dust he left behind himself.  
  
What a creature.  
  
•～  
  
As Matthew promised, the last letter he delivered arrived at around two in the afternoon – thank god he made sure to save some time before Dom decide to so cruelly stress him with stealing his bag – and as much as he normally wouldn’t return on the same path, he genuinely wanted the blond man to spend the rest of the afternoon with him.  
  
He had a sinking feeling that Dom wasn’t serious when he said that about wanting to see where Matthew lived, but those daunting thoughts quickly faded away when he saw the older man lounging in front of the white picket fence, checking his phone. When he noticed the mailman, he flashed him the million-watt smile and waved from afar.  
  
“So, you finally made it till the end of your shift, yeah? Everything went alright?”  
  
“The usual stuff. I got to deliver the mail hopefully on time and I got to see the people I’m used to seeing. I guess you could say everything went fine.” Matt didn’t stop in his stride as he approached Dom’s house and lead their way forward.  
  
Dom joined him with a slight jog. “That’s great to hear. How far is it?”  
  
“Counting in the shortcuts and possible needs to cross the roads… Half an hour if you’re fast.”  
  
“And if you’re slow?”  
  
The boy shot him a suspicious look.  
  
“Come on, Matt. I haven’t seen much of this town yet, you have to let me take a look at where we’ll be living together for the past few years.”  
  
The phrase ”living together” caused Matthew’s stomach to turn upside down, but not the hangover upside down kind. It’s when you get a postcard from your best friend after a long-time kind of upside down.  
  
It was the equivalent of Matthew talking about his stamps and someone actually, _truly_ being invested in what he’s talking about. Like Dom. It felt wonderful.  
  
Matthew, with his hands in the pockets of his khaki shorts, showed Dom all the houses he felt they brought up interesting talks and places he loved wandering around, and Dom on the other hand taught Matthew some English slang, despite the boy having certain aversion for words like “pavement”, “football” or “fancy”.  
  
The last one he decided to remember. Just in case. It sounded like it was going to be handy one day.  
  
They arrived in front of a particular house, one floor, yellow parget, nothing extravagant, but quite well off, Dom determined. The driveway had no car parked there, only a small, holiday boat stood by the sidewalk in front of the house.  
  
The blond was well on the way towards the house when he noticed the absence of Matthew. He turned his head.  
  
“Uh, Dom?”  
  
The boy was standing where the strange boat was. He made a small turn towards it.  
  
“Is that where you live, Matt?” he choked out, trying to stifle his laughter, making Matthew roll his eyes. “Has it been on the wide ocean yet? A real boat would have this sorted already.”  
  
“I’m figuring my stuff out as I go. You can’t hurry the process of sailing when you’re not sure what to do.”  
  
There was a ladder leading to the boat, since its bow was higher than Matthew himself. As was his routine, he sat down to the back of the boat. The place resembled a booth at a diner with a short bench that was stuck to the wall of the boat and a wooden plank that was supposed to resemble a table.  
  
He waited for his visitor to board his ship and when he saw the blond peek in, he smiled. “You can sit where you find it comfortable.”  
  
Dom looked around. The boat didn’t contain many things; mostly seats that weren’t as spacious as Matthew’s corner in the back, a few windows that were covered by a throw from the outside and a couch. He took a seat on one of the soft cushions that was on it and studied the bookshelf that was behind Matthew.  
  
“You asked whether it’s sailed already.” Dom met the boy’s eyes immediately, not expecting him to say anything further, given that he’d been quite distant when it came to personal questions about his background. “I came from school one day and, uh, I found the house completely empty. My old house where I lived with my parents. Everything was exactly where it was supposed to be, but my mom and dad were nowhere to be found. They left without a telling me beforehand, they didn’t write a letter, they didn’t even glue a sticky note to the fridge. Only this stupid boat to remind me that I don’t have parents.”  
  
The disappointment mixed with hurt painted Matthew’s face who was trying to hide it, but it wasn’t subtle enough for Dom not to notice. The older man shifted on the couch so that he was laying on it, head on the armrest that was close to Matthew’s booth.  
  
“Did you try to find them?”  
  
“And what would I say? ‘Hey there, you made me move to my friend’s driveway in a boat’! That would definitely leave a good impression on them.”  
  
“Well, you could always start with ‘Thanks for nothing, arseholes’.” They shared a chuckle, Dom finally seeing a toothy smile from Matthew. “My dad died. It was a long time ago, but still…”  
  
“Oh. Do you miss him from time to time?”  
  
“Of course I do. But I also still have my mum, even though she’s in England. I’m sort of glad my mum decided to stay there. I feel she wouldn’t really like what she’d see.”  
  
Matthew blinked in confusion. “That’s a bit harsh. Don’t you have your own house? Plus, you made a career in various fields, that’s something to look up to. Partners come and go, and kids… You moved into a quite liberal country – adoption is always an option, no matter what age you are. Not that you’re old or anything, so that’s not even relevant what I just said.”  
  
“You should stop rambling and tell me about your stamp collection you have here,” Dom said, sitting up, and take the book with the stamps into his lap.  
  
“I like collecting them. You can discover a lot from just looking at this tiny square, like where they came from, what season of the year they were made for, the year they left the factory… Anything that comes to mind.” He was a bit afraid to look up at Dom in case the blond would be just like others, bored to death by what he was saying, but no. Dom was examining the pages with the stamps thoroughly and all while listening to Matthew’s rambling.  
  
_There it was,_ Matthew thought. He was right about Dom being special.  
  
A small smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. “People don’t send those anymore as much as they used to, but if they ever started again, they’ll need one of these.” Casually, he pointed at a frame on the other corner of his booth. Inside it was a stamp of a man holding a surfboard that looked ordinary at first sight, and Dom thought so as well as he stood up to walk over to where Matthew was pointing.  
  
“What makes this one so special that you put it behind this wonderful glass prison?” he said, crouching on Matthew’s level to be able to see the stamp better.  
  
“It’s a misprint; the board is upside down. That means it’s the only one in the world. He’s special.”  
  
Blue eyes met grey ones and for a fleeting moment Matthew thought that Dom was going to get up and leave, but the blond had nothing in mind of these sorts.  
  
Dom leaned forward and his lips met Matthew’s for a sweet, but awfully short kiss. The boy didn’t even have the time to realise what was happening before Dom left him sitting frozen in place, his pupils dilating, and he put a hand over his mouth in shock.  
  
“Matt, I’m so, _so_ sorry. It just…” He stood up, almost hitting his head on the ceiling of the boat. “I should go. What’s the time?”  
  
Matthew broke the trance he was in. “I don’t know. You lost my watch.”  
  
“Oh, right, I did. I’m sorry about that too,” Dom snickered against his will. “Look, I’ll… I should just go. See you around, Matt. I’m sorry.”  
  
“Wait, Dom, you don’t have to-“  
  
Before the mailman could stop the blonde, he fell over the stamp book Dom abandoned on the ground. He turned over and stayed on the wooden floor, looking at the ceiling, wondering what had just happened.  
  
•～  
  
The next day was Tom and Matt’s day off, so he could drop by on his way to the neighbourhood he now dreaded to step into. It wasn’t like he was afraid of Dom himself, just the atmosphere between them. He didn’t want it to be weird, so before he could throw their newly found friendship – could he even call it that after what happened? -, he’d rather have a second opinion on that matter.  
  
“I have qualities people might find attractive, right?”  
  
Matthew was standing next to a bush with roses, posing for Tom’s camera. He had just re-dyed his hair blue again, so the colour was quite intensive, and since Tom had been in _dire need_ to take pictures of the boy, now was the perfect opportunity. The red color of the petals contrasted with Matthew’s electric locks wonderfully.  
  
“You’ve an interesting image,” Tom said, the click of a camera sounding throughout the garden.  
  
“You’re saying that only because you’re taking pictures of me.”  
  
Tom lowered the device. “You’re young.”  
  
“You’re twenty-six, Tom!” Matthew cried out, visibly frustrated.  
  
“Fine, you’re responsible.”  
  
“And that’s highly underrated nowadays.”  
  
“Yeah, sure, whatever helps you sleep at night.” Tom lit a cigarette, puffed out a cloud of smoke and returned to Matthew’s photoshoot. “Turn your head to the left, that’s your better side.”  
  
Matthew did as he was told, but kept a subtle eye on the photographer. “So, what I’m hearing is that I’m a catch?”  
  
“I’m not gonna say it out loud ever again, but if you need me to tell you so, then yes, you are,” he said and took a drag from his cigarette that was in the corner of his mouth.  
  
“I also have a boat. That’s attractive for middle-aged people in a crisis, right?”  
  
“If you think that Dom cares about materialistic things,” Tom sighed, putting the camera on a chair, ”then you’re trying to catch the wrong guy. But I doubt Dom’s that type, right?”  
  
“He’s a bit unpredictable. I don’t think he cares, but who knows. I’ve yet to figure out him and his routine.”  
  
“Listen, Matt. Throw the safe routine shit out of the window and do the opposite of what your instincts say. Neuroticism isn’t the new sexy.” He closed the lid of his camera and pointed at Matthew. “I’d love to have your blue head here in my garden for longer, but it’s needed elsewhere. Go.”  
  
And Matthew didn’t have to be told twice, now that he had an outline of an idea. He knew what to do, at least partially.  
  
With less than confident steps he shuffled towards the lemon-colored doors, making sure to practically stomp on the wooden floor of Dom’s porch. At first, he wanted to knock, but he found he had no motivation to even lift his hand up to the doorframe. He sat down cross-legged, his back leaning on the wall of the house.  
  
A radio was playing in the next house and Matthew started singing along to the song, as he found it was his favourite song at the moment _Somebody to Love_ by Queen.  
  
Quite ironic. And fitting.  
  
He didn’t consider himself a good singer, he listened to music only occasionally after all, but he could try different things.  
  
_Throw caution to the wind,_ he kept repeating in his mind.  
  
It only took a few minutes before he heard footsteps behind him and the door opened swiftly, almost knocking him off.  
  
Their gazes met. “Matthew, what on Earth are you doing?”  
  
“I guess I’m singing?”  
  
“Come over here, you idiot,” Dom whispered and beckoned inside with his head.  
  
Matthew almost lost his balance trying to catch up to Dom. He closed the door behind him and followed the blond to the kitchen that was divided from the living room with a half-wall.  
  
He leaned on a pillar that was a part of the partition, while his eyes followed Dom as he jumped on the counter in his kitchen.  
  
Dom decided to speak first. “Listen Matt, I’m really sorry for what happened on your boat.”  
  
Matthew stared at him. “Why?”  
  
“I just… I have a lot on my plate right now.”  
  
“And you think I don’t? We’ve spent a lot of time together that I started screwing up my job. Mails arriving later than usual, some letters didn’t even arrive that day you decided to steal my bag because you lost them on your way.” Matthew didn’t sound angry, he was just baffled at Dom’s response. It sounded almost as if the older man was making up excuses for his actions.  
  
He left his place by the pillar and propped his lower back on the counter next to Dom.  
  
“Whoah there, slow down. Are you blaming me for all these things?”  
  
“No, no, I just…” Matthew groaned, putting a hand over his eyes. “I just don’t know what to do. I’m afraid of some things. If I lose this job, what am I gonna do?”  
  
“I don’t want to seem like a bad guy, but don’t you see it, Matt? You’re young and you’re determined. So far, you’ve only been working one serious job and trust me, there’s plenty to discover in that field.”  
  
“No, Dom, you don’t understand. Not in this town, not with my personality. Even when I was in high school, I was predestined to be a carrier. I was passing the notes back and forth between my classmates. It’s the only thing I’ve ever known.“  
  
Dom stopped listening to the boy and he jumped off of the counter, opening a cupboard with glasses and pulled two out. He reached into a cabinet behind Matthew who could only watch the graceful movements of the blond, even though he seemed almost annoyed with the blue-haired boy, took out a bottle of vodka and poured them both a glass.  
  
“Drink it.”  
  
“I don’t drink.”  
  
“Drink it like the fucking man you are,” Dom insisted and the firm voice sent shivers up Matthew’s spine.  
  
He took a long swig that left less than a half of the liquid inside, causing the boy’s face to scrunch in repulsion and he let out a series of coughs, but overall he felt better.  
  
“Down it, come on.”  
  
This time Matthew didn’t protest. Its taste was revolting, but he’d be lying if he said it didn’t feel good.  
  
Dom cackled. “And you said you didn’t dr-“  
  
Matthew kissed him. His small, veiny hands lingered on both sides of his face, stroking his unshaved cheeks, soon caressing the blond locks with an occasional tug. And Dom hated himself because he truly enjoyed it. He _loved_ it.  
  
He responded quickly, kissing Matthew back with such power that the boy stepped back, colliding with the pillar he was propped on earlier, and fell on the floor.  
  
Dom kneeled immediately by his side. “Oh my god, Matt, are you okay?”  
  
“Sure, sure, come closer, _I need-,_ ” the boy pleaded, his hand reaching for Dom’s shoulder as he brought their lips together once again, moaning in pleasure.  
  
And then there was no way back.  
  
•～  
  
Dom laid in his bed with his eyes closed, blanket thrown over him and Matthew in a poor attempt to cover them both at once. Matt had his head on Dom’s chest as he listened to Dom’s soft snores.  
  
“Your heart’s racing,” Matthew stated and looked up in hopes to see the grey irises watching him.  
  
“Guess I’m getting too old for this,” Dom sighed.  
  
“I’ve only done it once and I’m tired as well, that would mean that we’re both too old for this,” the blue-haired boy countered. “Dom, can I… uh, would it be okay if I took you out?”  
  
“Like a date?”  
  
“I’d love to call it a date, yeah. Can you pick me up, though? I don’t have a car.”  
  
“You’re silly. Of course. Now go, you’ve surely a lot of things to take care of.”  
  
Matthew felt a bit betrayed, but he understood. “Of course, right. But I’ll see you tonight, yeah?”  
  
“What’s to- oh. You meant for the date to be tonight.”  
  
He put on his black shirt with a band logo Dom didn’t recognise and searched for his pants. He found them in the doorway. “Well, I figured that I was free, we could do it tonight.”  
  
It took Dom a second to process Matthew’s words. Once second, he was a shy, afraid mailman, the other he was forward and a bit cold. What were this boy’s true colors? ”Yeah, no, you’re right. I’ll see you then.”  
  
“Yeah. Uh, see you. And thanks, you know.”  
  
Matthew found his way out. The sun was bright, Dom’s flowers in the front yard were positively blooming and it seemed like nothing could go wrong. Matthew kept his gaze on a particular bush of Hydrangeas that bore the same colour as his hair. He hadn’t noticed these before, though safe to say that Matthew never really paid attention to anything other than the sidewalk and the mailbox, but with Dom’s impromptu garden he was sure they weren’t there before.  
  
A little spark of hope kept telling him that Dom had got them because they reminded him of Matthew. He didn’t want to get his heart broken, but this felt like the only possible option.  
  
He put his hands into his pocket and slowly headed towards his boat with a satisfied mind.  
  
•～  
  
Once again, they were hanging out in Chris’ garden. Chris was shooting at a flimsy net while Matthew drank beer and watched his friend shoot goals in various ways.  
  
“How’re you and Caris?” he called after the curly-haired boy.  
  
“Well, she’s definitely a catch. I really like hanging out with her, you know,” Chris huffed after a particularly powerful kick. “I like her in general.”  
  
“Tell her that you fancy her in a ridiculous British accent, and I guarantee you that she’ll drop to the floor.”  
  
“I’ll hold you to that. Where did you learn it anyway? Has someone sent a letter all the way from England?”  
  
Matthew realised only now that he hadn’t had the chance to talk about Dom in the last few days he’d known him. “Not really. An English guy named Dom Howard moved into Tom’s neighbourhood. He taught me some British slang.”  
  
“Did you make a new friend? That’s a new one. Well, come on, tell me about him!” Chris demanded and left the ball to run to Matthew.  
  
“Well, he used to be an artist, a drummer and everything you can think of. He’s blond, but not that kind of stupid blond, he’s really smart and he's kind too. He actually listens to what I say.”  
  
“You really like him, don’t you?”  
  
The question surprised Matthew. “Well, obviously. He doesn’t tell me I’m boring every two minutes.”  
  
“You know what I mean, Matt.”  
  
Almost ashamedly Matthew nodded, keeping his head low. “I have a date with him tonight.”  
  
Chris watched the other boy’s face for a few seconds, awaiting a laughter, a chuckle, anything that would signalise that Matthew was joking about this whole debacle. And as he expected, nothing came.  
  
“Oh. Uhm,” he coughed into his fist. “Well, I have to say, I’m surprised, Matt. But also, I hope this’ll make you happy. You’ve been… a bit down for the past few weeks, so I hope this Dom guy fixes it. You deserve to be happy, you know.”  
  
Like a big brother, Chris stood up, patting his back. “You can borrow some of my clothes if you want,” he winked before disappearing inside.  
  
That went better than expected, Matthew thought. He wanted to check the time and upon realising that his watch were long gone, he decided that he better start getting ready, just in case Dom was more of an early meal kind of person.  
  
Matthew chose a red button-up that was tight around his chest – he really should buy new clothes and stop wearing his high school wardrobe – and black jeans, complimenting his legs that had since starting his mailman job thickened a bit, as much as it wasn’t really visible on the slender boy.  
  
His hair was styled into a small wave, but the rest just defied gravity, as it usually was. Weirdly, it suited Matthew. It would be considered informal and even vulgar with other people, but the boy had the proportions for the hairstyle.  
  
When he was satisfied with how he looked, he came out of his boat to the driveway and waited for Dom, occasionally checking his watch and always forgetting that he had lost it.  
  
Eventually, the blond’s car pulled close to the sidewalk and Dom opened the door for Matthew.  
  
He jumped in, his eyes gazing at Dom’s attire which consisted of a white shirt, black jeans and leopard-printed suit jacket. “You look lovely,” Matthew gasped, smiling.  
  
“Thanks, I tried,” Dom joked and unconsciously leaned in for a kiss, before realising his mistake. He was a few inches away from Matthew’s surprised face. “Oh, sorry. Can I kiss you?”  
  
The boy was as red as a tomato. “Permission granted.”  
  
Their lips met in a tender kiss, Matthew sighing, contented. It wasn’t even a day, but he already missed Dom and his touch, it was almost scary.  
  
He never knew he craved physical contact so much before meeting the Englishman. Alas, he wasn’t complaining, not at all. He felt safe.  
  
“I’ll guide you. I hope you’re not expecting anything big, though. It’s just… a pizza place.”  
  
“You’re taking me for a pizza on the first date?”  
  
“Well, it seemed like the best place at the moment.”  
  
“Why a pizza place?”  
  
“It’s Italian and that’s _kinda_ considered like it’s something fancy, but you’ll see. Just drive, okay?”  
  
Dom shook his head and pulled out of the driveway.  
  
Matthew showed him directions to the town, even though Dom knew how to get to the center quite well. If the boy didn’t lead him through beautiful alleys, along small lakes and historical buildings, he’d be a bit mad at him. It took them way longer, but it was definitely worth it. It was visible that Matthew had spent much more time on his legs discovering his hometown than he let on at first glance.  
  
It really was a small place. It was on a corner, hidden from the rest of the town, and inside there were only four sets of tables, plus one booth which Dom and Matthew were occupying.  
  
“I was thinking that we could visit the artyard tomorrow,” Matthew said with his mouth full.  
  
“It’s a beautiful place, yeah. A lot of people started coming in, though, so I’d rather not.”  
  
“Then maybe you could teach me how to play the drums?”  
  
Dom chuckled at the boy’s enthusiasm. “That actually takes a while, Matt. It’s not like you sit behind the kit and just play.” The blond took a sip from his soda, still not getting used to the richer taste of the liquid. “I’d say let’s get through this and not think about tomorrow right now.”  
  
“Oh… What’s that supposed to mean?”  
  
“Sorry, I didn’t mean for it to sound like that. It’s just… not what I want to bother my mind with.”  
  
“ _’Bother your mind’_? Dom, we went from zero to a hundred real fast. Our relationship has changed and we gotta do something about it. Talking is the least we can start with.”  
  
Dom leaned in closer to Matthew as to not disturb other people in the building. “Yes, Matt, I’m aware of that, but even the way you say relationship is just a strange concept and I don’t really want to hear about it right now.”  
  
“We have sex. _On the floor_. And it’s not what you wanna hear about right now?” Matthew countered in an accusatory tone.  
  
The blond put his hands over Matthew’s. “Listen, Matt. I know you’re trying to see things differently, but what do you think is going to happen?”  
  
“What do you think, Dom? Can’t we just be? You know, just live? I see myself… with you.”  
  
“Oh, Matt, you’re just a kid.”  
  
“I’m gonna be twenty-five in two days! For god’s sake, I’m an adult, just like you are.” Then, Matthew took an expression that of a deer caught in the headlights. “Was I just a distraction for you, Dom? Just so you could… try me out?”  
  
“Of course not, Matt, I like you! This is just-“  
  
“-so you wouldn’t have to be alone,” Matthew finished for the blond.  
  
He knew how to handle his anger and be patient, but Matthew had just crossed a line. “You’re so wrong,” Dom spat. “I can handle being alone just fine, but you can’t handle being in a relationship, Matt.”  
  
These were Dom’s last words before he stomped out into the night, leaving Matthew behind, confused and just a little bit scared.  
  
•～  
  
Chris was standing in front of a yellow door, mentally preparing himself for seeing the person that was to answer it. He expected anything from Matthew’s description, as vague as it was, but definitely not a lot older blond guy that was currently wearing just yellow shorts that did a poor job of leaving anything for the imagination of a young boy, and Chris understood his friend’s infatuation with this Dom Howard guy.  
  
“Yeah?”  
  
Chris didn’t realise that he was eyeing him. No, he was _ogling_.  
  
“I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to stare. Eh, hey, I’m Chris Wolstenholme – Matthew’s family.”  
  
Chris was still trying to take in Dom’s appearance, his mind not forming proper sentences. They spent a minute in an awkward silence, Dom bouncing from one foot to another, Chris giving him a scrutinising look.  
  
It didn’t feel twice as good as Matthew’s warm gaze, Dom realised.  
  
“We’re, uh, on a bitter break right now with Matt.”  
  
“Oh, he didn’t tell me. It’s his birthday today and, uh, he talked about you a lot, so I thought I would invite you to his birthday party.”  
  
“He didn’t invite me, so I think that would be kind of rude.” He’d like to think that this was the only reason he didn’t want to come.  
  
“I’m inviting you ‘cause I think you should come anyway. Even though you’re on a break, he still wishes he could ramble on about you. His eyes just say that.” He thrust an envelope into Dom’s hands, said his goodbyes and hurried away.  
  
Dom stood there in a haze from the interaction he just witnessed. It was clear Chris wasn’t a bad guy, he wanted Matthew to be happy with being his family and all. Alas, coming to a party of a boy more than ten years younger whom you’d slept with wasn’t a good idea either. Plus, he had no gift and the party was right that day.  
  
He accidentally dropped the invitation to the ground, groaning as he bent over for it, but a shiny object in the blue Hydrangeas caught his attention.  
  
It was Matthew’s watch.  
  
Suddenly, the day they went to the artyard arose in his head, remembering how excited Matthew looked, how his eyes lit up when he saw himself in the mirror, and right behind him Dom was holding his shoulders. The strange feeling that he should have kissed the blue-haired boy there didn’t escape his memory, and he could only do so much not to shout in frustration. Dom knew he liked Matthew at the time, he really did.  
  
But only now he realised that he also liked him more than a friend, blasted be the slightly sour taste on his tongue while saying that.  
  
Maybe Matthew was right at their disastrous date. That Dom was friends with him only because he didn’t want to be alone. Only now the weight of the boy’s words overcame him like an avalanche.  
  
It would have to be him, though. Only Matthew was good enough that he could make the feeling of loneliness disappear.  
  
A decision stood before him. Starting a new life, or starting a new life _with_ Matthew?  
  
•～  
  
Matthew stood up from the couch. “I don’t think he’s coming, Chris. Let’s just… let’s just start, okay?”  
  
Chris was holding his wine glass for good ten minutes, just like his girlfriend Caris was, desperate to just taste a drop of the alcohol, but he couldn’t, until Matthew wasn’t prepared to start.  
  
It wasn’t exactly the birthday party Matthew wanted to have. Sure, there were his colleagues from work – Glen, Morgan, and even Tanya managed her busy schedule of clubbing all nights and arrived. And Tom could make it too. Only the one person Matthew desperately hoped to make it wasn’t sitting in his designated seat.  
  
They all followed the boy’s example of standing up, their empty glasses ready for the champagne, and Chris started his monologue.  
  
“Well, Matt, you’re twenty-five. You’ve gone through a lot, but there is still lot to discover. All the good restaurants to taste the food from, all the stamps that are yet to be collected, your boat that’s surely waiting to sail across the oceans! So, let’s celebrate your so far predictable life and let’s drink for your unpredictable decisions that are waiting to happen.” With that, Chris popped the bottle of some cheap champagne open, poured everyone a good amount and clinked their glasses together.  
  
After the toast came presents. He got new shoes from Chris - ” _finally_ ”, he breathed out, chuckling -, Tom gave him the photo they shot together in a nice, Victorian frame. His co-workers gave him a new album for his stamps, and all chipped in with a few stamps from their collections to grant him a head-start.  
  
Everyone was smiling, just chatting with each other, and Matthew tried hard to be happy with them, but he was bothered. He didn’t let anything on, but he felt dissatisfied.  
  
The door burst open and there stood Dom Howard in all his glory, a red suit on, his hair neatly brushed. “Sorry, I was trying to be fashionably late.”  
  
Matthew sharply turned his head towards the source of the raspy voice and a silent gasp escaped his mouth upon seeing the blond. He suddenly became conscious of his own clothes, hastily brushing the crumbs off of his clothes. All guests chuckled, but he was focused on only one voice.  
  
“This is Dom,” he said in a weak voice, trying so hard not to start laughing from joy.  
  
Matthew heard a whisper from his co-workers’ side. Something along the lines of: “Why don’t I have these guys on my route?”, but he was _sure_ Dom heard it too. And then Tom continued the debate, only way louder. “He’s a real looker.”  
  
Matthew coughed. “Dom, can I show you the garden?”  
  
“I’d be delighted, Matt!”  
  
They closed the door to the garden before anyone could say anything more inappropriate. Matthew was visibly flustered at the behaviour of his guests – have they never seen a good-looking guy in their life, or what?  
  
“I kind of feel like I shouldn’t be h-“  
  
“I’m so glad you came,” Matthew interjected. They shared a knowing smile.  
  
“Listen, Matt, I’m sorry. You were absolutely right about the loneliness thing when we were out.” The blond took Matthew’s hand in his and continued. “I just want you to know that I didn’t use you. I had the time of my life with you and losing you was just… not what I wanted to happen with you.”  
  
“Welcome to the club, heh.” He let Dom draw his body closer to him, feeling the strong urge to just hug the man that stood so beautiful in front of him.  
  
“What should we do now then, Matt?”  
  
“I don’t know. I don’t know anything these days, but what I do know is that you’re a wonderful person, Dom, and that I’d love to try something different along with you.”  
  
"If you're sure about that..." Suddenly, Dom exclaimed and drew a small box from his pocket, thrusting it into Matthew’s hands. “Oh! I forgot.”  
  
Matthew opened to reveal his watch, but they looked off to him.  
  
“I cleaned them up, but I also added something on the other side of the mechanism.”  
  
The boy, still in awe from the gift, turned the watch over and inspected it closer, when he found a writing on the metal plate.  
  
It said _Sail Away Sweet Sister_.  
  
“Like the Queen song,” Matthew breathed out.  
  
“Just like the Queen song. You sung _Somebody to Love_ a few days back. I figured that trying something different also meant trying something different with things you already have.”  
  
It was a breath-taking night. The sky was dark, no signs of gloomy clouds, and the stars shone just sweeter than any other evening. It might’ve been just Matthew’s imagination, but he felt today was finally different the way he wanted it to be and he found he loved it.  
  
Matt leaned in a kissed Dom’s lips. Then they went inside.  
  
•～  
  
It was one of these days when Chris could sleep until the late morning, almost approaching noon, and he wanted to savour it as much as he could. When he opened his eyes, he laid still for ten more minutes, then finally got to take a shower and finally start making Matthew and him some lunch.  
  
He came to the kitchen only to discover a letter on the table. It was accepted by the post office, correct address and stamp. The stamp caught his attention.  
  
It was Matthew’s stamp. It was _The Duke_ he cherished so much.  
  
Chris opened the letter and started reading through the lines.  
  
_Hey Chris!  
  
By the time you start this letter, I’ll be gone. Not the bad way, you know. But gone in the good way. I decided that this life is too short to have every step lined and everything has to be the exact same way every day. The plan was nice, but you have to admit - twenty-five and have a stable job as a carrier?  
  
I have something different now, and it’s Dom.  
  
I’ll write you another letter when we’re in Australia (or land in general). And don’t worry about the lack of stamps – I have a whole collection!  
  
Thank you so much for everything you did for me. You’re still my brother.  
  
Matt  
  
_He dropped the paper on the table and looked out of the window.  
  
Matthew’s boat was gone and the only thing that was left was the thick throw that was covering it.  
  
•～  
  
Meanwhile Matthew was standing on the prow of the boat that had _Dear Sidewalk_ written on its body, with Dom behind him, his arms around the boy’s waist. The motor was turned off and they were sailing for the most part now, leaving the boat lead them wherever it wanted.  
  
“Is this kind of different good enough for you?” Dom asked, looking down at Matthew.  
  
He smiled, gazing at Dom lovingly. “Perfect.”


End file.
